


Neither Goodwill Nor Mystery

by ChiaRoseKuro



Category: Naruto
Genre: (terms and conditions apply), Accidental Sexual Innuendos, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crack Treated Seriously, Dysfunctional Relationships, For Want of a Sledgehammer, Gen, Minor Character Death, Naruto Epilogue Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Random Gratuitous Swearing, The Author Regrets Nothing, Time Travel Fix-It, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-05-03
Packaged: 2019-03-28 14:12:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13905714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChiaRoseKuro/pseuds/ChiaRoseKuro
Summary: Something must show in his expression because Sasuke wrinkles his nose as Naruto shifts, wriggles his finger a little more insistently and mutters, “No, not there—just a little to your left—notyourleft,myleft—”“Got it,” Naruto replies, then flicks the body away.A moment of silence, a little more depth to Sasuke’s furrow and then—“That,” he says very carefully, “looks a lot like my dead ancestor.”Everything's peachy for Naruto; he's made his peace with Sasuke and the demon in his head, is married to the love of his life, has two wonderful children and has almost clocked a year as the Seventh Hokage. Who could possibly take all that away from him? (Answer: it's notwho, it'swhat... though it's a tossup between the suspect scroll and the twenty-odd years separating him from the future)( alternately, the one where Naruto and Sasuke do accidental time travel a laThe Wizard of Oz, the ninja world gets all the wrong ideas about them, and the author dips their fingers into too many pies )





	1. The Great Grey Prairie (of mediocrity and doldrum)

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes, I tell myself I'll complete my ongoing works before starting a new one... and then this happened. At least it was nice while it lasted.
> 
> If you're familiar with one of my other crack fics ( _The Devil's in the Detail_ ) you'll know what I'm talking about when I say this is a vignette-y sorta fic. If you're not familiar with it, though, never fear; what that means is I won't document everything that happens so it'll be more like snapshots into Naruto's and Sasuke's life in the past. Unlike TDITD, this will be as chronological as I can get it to be, so I may or may not end up reordering chapters if I miss something.
> 
> There isn't much in the way of warnings unless you're not a fan of minor character deaths or profanity; past!Naruto and past!Sasuke are _not_ entering a homosexual relationship (no matter how much I love SasuNaru) but that doesn't necessarily mean present!SasuNaru is off the cards. I haven't planned that far ahead in terms of other relationships but it's a good idea to keep an eye on the tags since I'll update them with each successive chapter. Unless mentioned otherwise, assume that canon relationships are in place. Oh, and don't bother getting angry if I don't write something to your liking and you have nothing constructive to say; I'm well aware that this is ridiculous, but I wrote this for fun and I'm not looking to cop any flak for it.
> 
> Special thanks to every Naruto time travel fic I've read because I'm pretty sure all of them inspired this, in some part, _The Wizard of Oz_ for retroactively acting as my muse (and titling my ridiculous chapters), and that timey-wimey quote for providing the title of this fic. I don't think I've encroached on anyone's idea in the tweaks I made to the canonverse... but if I did, please tell me and I'll do my best to set this fic apart somehow. In any case, I hope you enjoy reading this!

* * *

 

Paperwork, Naruto’s come to realize, is _mind-numbingly boring_.

It’s not a recent revelation—if anything, Naruto’s known since he was five. Maybe it’s a little earlier if he wants to be accurate, since Hokage-jiji had never shooed him away when he’d crawled into his lap and watched him sort through heaping mounds of paper, but… it’s _different_. There’s something about doing all the stamping and signing and goddamn headache-inducing reading that’s not the same as watching someone doing it, but he was young. It wasn’t like he could’ve _known_ , right?

 _Well, now you do,_ Naruto tells himself, and scribbles a signature onto whatever’s in front of him. Honestly, why hadn’t anyone _told_ him about all this when he’d been angling for the top spot?

 _Because you never listened,_ a smug voice growls back, and—ugh, typical. Of _course_ the fleabag can’t keep his nose out of his business.

 _Did you just call me a_ fleabag _?!_ the monster in his head, a pure chakra construct and the greatest of all the Tailed Beasts roars.

 _Yes,_ Naruto replies—and just because he can, tacks on an amused, _yes I did_.

In the back of his mind, where there’d once been a sewer but is now a twilit forest clearing, Kurama twitches and descends into a magnificent sulk. Apparently, years of living—quite literally—in his head have done nothing to build up his tolerance for his container.

It’d be amusing on a normal day, but because Naruto’s got no less than three teetering piles of paper to sort through in the next… oh, two hours before sunset… he’s not smiling. Hell, he’d join in on the sulking if he didn’t have _so much paperwork to do_.

That’s the thing, though; being the Hokage isn’t just about being the strongest ninja in the village, like Naruto’d been dreaming about for the past god knows how many years. It’s brought admiring glances and recognition for being a person, and a _powerful_ one at that—but there’s council meetings and all the political bullshit he can’t just blow off with heart-to-hearts like he did with reformed villains and did he mention the _fucking paperwork?!_

“ _Fucking_ paperwork,” Naruto growls beneath his breath—because he’ll stress it until his throat gives out if it means it’ll just _disappear and leave him alone—_ and signs off on something else.

Two down, thousands more to go.

No wonder Kakashi had been so quick to inaugurate him when he’d asked.  
  


* * *

  
Naruto’s in the middle of a ramen field when he’s rudely interrupted by murmuring. Sadly, it’s stock-standard for him to never eat the ramen he so lovingly frolics in—but what’s _not_ is the somewhat disembodied nature of said murmuring. It’s ramen as far as the eye can see, so where’s it coming from?

 _Not your head, brat,_ Kurama helpfully points out, and punts him straight out of his dream and into reality.

There’s no less than five more stacks of teetering papers on the table, which is definitely two more than there were last night. Naruto’s barely managed to wipe drool from the corner of his mouth, give up the sheet half-soaked in his spit as a bad job and _think_ about mourning yet another night spent in the office when the murmuring stops, footsteps get louder and—

Well. It’s a good thing, in hindsight, that Naruto’s used to sensing malicious intent before it hits him. He’d be missing a head otherwise—which is definitely not Sakura’s intention, because he hasn’t even clocked a year as the Seventh yet—but on the bright side, his desk’s half-caved in and the papers are all mixed up.

…Hey, maybe it’ll mean he has less paperwork to sort through!

“Not likely, Hokage-sama,” a lazy voice drawls from his left. “You’ll need to sort it yourself.”

Naruto doesn’t need a _troublesome_ to know who that is, much like he doesn’t need Sakura cracking her knuckles from his right to know he’d just voiced his thoughts aloud again. Apparently, just like the old fleabag’s never gotten used to living in his mind, so too has he never gotten used to keeping _himself_ to his mind.

In his defence, it’s kinda crowded when a big hulking fox’s taken up residence there since… well, practically since _birth_. From the way Kurama grumbles and sulks some more, nobody else sees it his way.

It’s probably why he sounds a little whiny around the edges when Naruto replies, “But Shika, you’re my _advisor_. Isn’t it your job to help me out?”

“Troublesome.” Shikamaru massages his forehead then pinches the bridge of his nose and—ah, there he goes. Mission accomplished.

Sakura takes the opportunity to try and swat the back of Naruto’s head—in the loosest sense of the word ‘swat’, anyway—and another crack forms on his half-ruined desk when he dodges. It’s just a pity that she doesn’t destroy the paperwork at the same time.

Speaking of destruction, though…

“Aren’t you meant to be at the hospital?” Naruto asks, willing a tax report to slip onto the floor and disappear from sight.

“No, because I’m babysitting your sorry arse,” Sakura says—and wow, she’s really learnt how to do sarcasm after years with the bastard, hasn’t she? Unaware of Naruto’s sudden blanching at the thought, she intercepts the tax report in time to whack it across his head and glower when he dodges.

Distantly, he wonders if medics can heal their own migraines or brain haemorrhages. From the way Shikamaru takes one look at his face, rolls his eyes heavenwards and mutters what sounds like another _troublesome_ under his breath, he’s probably not doing too well at concealing the thought. As the bastard always says: _you project your ridiculous shit all over your face._

Maybe it’d be a good idea to insist on an ANBU mask.

Naruto’s barely started contemplating the idea when Sakura makes the reason for her presence known—apart from the whole ‘my fist is too friendly and wants to acquaint itself with _everything_ you own’ deal. Then again, it’s probably Sakura’s modus operandi at this stage and she wouldn’t be herself without wrecking half a room. Half the piles on his desk and the desk itself is pretty good, as is.

…But yes, back to the reason.

“Where were you last night?” Clenching her fist so hard that the tax report—which Naruto’s _pretty_ sure is about fifty pages thick—crinkles and tears in her grip, Sakura smiles menacingly down at him. “Or do the words ‘wedding anniversary’ mean _nothing_ to you?”

“Wait, that was _yesterday?_ ” It’s a legitimate question, it really is, but the way Shikamaru sighs and Sakura makes a sound like a drowning cat begs to differ. Naruto averts his eyes from two stares—one tired, one accusatory—and finds himself looking at his calendar, where… “Oh.”

“ _Yeah. Oh._ ” If Sakura were any less impressed with him, Naruto might just poof into nothing.

As it is, he’s feeling very small and insignificant, Hokage position be damned.

“You had _one_ job, moron,” Sakura starts ranting, spittle flying all over Naruto’s face. Years of close proximity to Sakura tells him that she’ll likely carry on for five minutes at the very _least_ , so he’s hardly surprised when Shikamaru yawns, mutters another _troublesome_ and meanders out. His glance is almost pitying as he closes the door behind him, but Sakura’s yelling about Himawari being sad, which makes him an absolute _monster_ because how _dare_ you make a sweet little toddler cry, and Kurama’s quite pointedly checked out of the conversation so Naruto does too.

Well, not entirely. He’s still obliged to nod every now and again to make it _look_ like he’s listening, but Sakura’s so into her ranting that she barely notices his lacklustre responses.

The thing is that Naruto _does_ feel bad about forgetting, he really does. Hinata’s never complained about the long hours he has to pull if he doesn’t want to drown in administration and only ever wishes him safe travels when he leaves for diplomatic visits. She’d stayed up until the early hours of the morning, despite being run down with caring for the kids, so she could greet him at the door with a kiss and a soft _welcome home, Naruto_.

He’s never taken his wife for granted. He’s never taken his kids, his _family_ for granted.

It’s just that Naruto has a village to run as well, affairs to manage so that no child ever grows up the way he did, and… with so many people depending on him, how else can he balance it out? Short of maintaining a constant Shadow Clone, there aren’t enough hours in the day or enough of _himself_ to spread so many ways, and there’ll always be someone who loses out in the end.

Naruto’s so tired that coffee is the only thing that keeps him alert, but it’s _still_ not enough to keep his life from combusting like a Great Fireball.

“So you’re going to be there for _lunch_ ,” Sakura snarls, clearly at the end of her patience and minutes-long rant. “You’re going to _kiss_ Hinata on the cheek, _beg_ for her forgiveness and _sleep in your goddamn bed before you die from exhaustion, got it?_ ”

“Yes, Sakura,” Naruto meekly replies, barely managing to substitute the right name for ‘mom’.

Kurama, the smug bastard, only snorts in his head. He might’ve suffered at the hands of someone with darker-coloured hair, but they’re both experts on this particular brand of chastising—or nagging, as it were. Naruto’s not going to be picky about his language when Sakura’s fist is hovering _just so_ near his head.

Because a chakra-infused fist that could split the earth to its depths isn’t threatening enough, Sakura bares her teeth in what a blind man might deem a smile and says, “Good! Now get back to work or I’ll let you sign off on my medical reports, too.”

With a markedly less enthusiastic “ _yes_ , Sakura,” Naruto waves at her retreating back and reacquaints his face with his broken desk again.

Maybe God will take pity on him and smite him before lunchtime or something.  
  


* * *

  
Predictably, Sasuke’s first words to Naruto in three months are, “Really, dead last?”

“I’m the _Hokage_ , show me some goddamn _respect_ ,” Naruto growls, but it’s somewhat less impressive when his face is smooshed into the desk and the only thing trained on Sasuke’s face is one middle finger. He doesn’t need to look up to see what the bastard’s response is, because even a civilian could feel the smugness radiating from him.

For once, Naruto’s not entirely sure if his acidic _you need better friends_ comes from himself or the old fox. As though Sasuke can sense his thoughts—and he probably can, because he’d never miss an opportunity to laud his own superiority—he huffs out his closest approximation to a laugh and says, “Once you remember your wife, moron, then maybe I’ll get around to remembering some respect for you.”

Ninjas, Naruto spares a moment to think, are nothing but _overpowered gossips_.

“Not like _you’re_ any better, bastard!” Naruto replies, jerking up so fast that he almost tips himself off his chair. Five seconds and a rather terrifying close encounter with the window sill later… “Wait, weren’t you meant to be in another dimension? How do you even _know_?”

Sasuke only rolls his eyes and slams a scroll onto his already-overflowing desk. Naruto’s guessing that he’s probably met his daily quota for verbal interaction—a thought that’s enough to make him snort and provoke an arched brow from the bastard—and leans over obligingly to look at the new addition to his table. It’s a miracle, really, that Sasuke manages to find an empty spot in all the clutter.

“So…” Naruto says, a few seconds after glancing between Sasuke’s hand and Sasuke’s scroll, “What’s this about?”

There’s an expected _hn_ and a somewhat unexpected mutter that sounds a lot like _you have_ eyes _, moron,_ use _them_ but Sasuke lifts his hand and Naruto gets his first unhindered glimpse at the scroll. It’s plain, far plainer than something he _thinks_ is from another dimension but might _not_ be, and it sits perfectly innocently on his desk.

“Well?” Naruto asks, the epitome of politeness.

Another eloquent eye roll and Sasuke proves his daily quota is not quite used up. In fact…

“Nononono, stop _right_ there,” Naruto pleads, one hand pinching the bridge of his nose and the other held up to ward off whatever Sasuke wanted to say next. He’d just finished explaining the scroll’s exterior in _excruciating_ detail; there was _no_ need for more recounts.

Though, from the glint in Sasuke’s visible eye, he doesn’t quite agree.

 _Desperate times call for desperate measures._ With that cheerful thought to incentivize him, Naruto hurriedly asks, “So you’re saying it’s some kind of forbidden technique inside, right? And it needs more than just your Rinnegan or Sharingan to power it up?”

There’s something smug and knowing in Sasuke’s eye, but thankfully he keeps his snide comebacks to himself and opts for a flat, “Yes, that’s right.” Another careful look and a heartbeat later, he quietly adds, “So your ears _do_ work; miracles upon miracles.”

Because rising to the bait will mean Sasuke’s won, which in turn would make the insufferable bastard even _more_ insufferable, Naruto only laments the other’s lacking social skills in his head and pretends the old fox actually cares for his plight.

As though to spite him, Kurama does his mental equivalent of eye-rolling and turning his back on Naruto. Clearly, he needs a better audience to appreciate his suffering.

Regardless, Sasuke’s clearly waiting for him to say something else, so Naruto props his chin on one upturned hand and says, “I reckon you were just too _weak_ to activate it then.”

True to form, the air grows colder as Sasuke narrows his eyes, but all he offers is a derisive, “Hn.”

“I mean,” Naruto continues, lounging back in his chair and doing his best impression of Sasuke’s usual smirk, “you _might_ have good chakra control and you _do_ have your freaky eyes, but at the end of the day we know which one out of us is the chakra tank—”

“And it’s Kurama, not you,” Sasuke deadpans.

Naruto almost can’t splutter through the old fox’s booming laughter.

“ _Anyway_ , all we gotta do is shove it full of chakra and figure out what’s inside, right?” Without waiting for Sasuke’s response, Naruto breathes in and closes his eyes, slipping into Sage Mode with a few more breaths. Kurama’s just begun feeding energy into the bond to achieve his Six Paths Sage Mode when Sasuke’s breath hitches.

It’s a quiet sound, one that Naruto wouldn’t have picked up on were he not attuned to the universe, but because he _is_ it’s enough to make him crack an eye open. What he sees is… well.

 _That,_ Kurama dryly observes, _doesn’t look like the scroll you saw before_.

There’s lines dancing across the once-plain shell, for one, and they’re certainly not in any ink he’s ever seen before. Naruto can feel the power brimming inside him and more floods into him with every breath, but the power emanating from the scroll is almost enough to rival his own. It’s also glowing like there’s no tomorrow, almost outshining his own bright yellow coat, so it’s no wonder that Sasuke blinks and lets his eyes spin red and purple.

“So, what do you see?” Naruto asks, when the scroll’s almost so bright that he can’t bear to look at it anymore.

“I’m not…” Sasuke trails off, and Naruto arches a brow.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say Sasuke wasn’t _sure_ —but how’s that even possible? With a light frown and a half-hearted shrug, Naruto reaches forward and says, “I’ll just unroll it and see, then.”

“Wait!” Sasuke shouts, darting forward to intercept Naruto’s hand, but he’s just a second too late and both their fingers brush against the glowing scroll.

With a thunderous crack, the scroll forcefully flings itself open and flares so bright that all of Konoha sees the resultant light. By the time everyone’s vision clears and Shikamaru’s crashed into the room, there’s only a faintly charred desk to show that anything had gone wrong.

That, and the very conspicuous absence of Konoha’s Seventh Hokage and the last full-blooded Uchiha.  
  


* * *

  
Naruto’s head, for lack of a better word, _hurts_.

He remembers the light burning his skin and a sensation not unlike Sakura’s punch slamming into his gut, but it’s the throbbing behind his eyes that’s _really_ getting to him. Rubbing his temple with a groan, Naruto shakes his head and gets to his feet.

Or, at least, he _tries_ to.

Oh, the grumbling and the head-shaking is fine; it’s the head-rubbing and the whole getting to his feet deal that Naruto can’t quite execute. His hand feels heavy and soft, batting at his temple without doing anything to alleviate the pressure, and he almost staggers and falls on his face when he gets his knees off the ground. Thankfully, he manages to balance himself in time—with nine tails he didn’t have before.

 _Oh, hell,_ Naruto thinks, and cracks an eye open to stare at his muzzle. His orange, furry muzzle that would never fit on a human being but looks perfectly at home on Kurama’s long face.

“Kurama,” someone says near his feet, and Naruto looks down to find Sasuke staggering to his feet. He’s barely curled a lip to laugh at the bastard—because the girls might still try to throw themselves at his feet, but he’s bet they’ve _never_ seen him after a pub crawl or like this—when he hears, “get Naruto out so I can Chidori the moron.”

“No,” Naruto replies, his voice a rumble far more impressive than shouting or whining.

Huh. Maybe he should become the fleabag more often and terrorize disobedient ninja that way.

Unaware of Naruto’s thoughts—or the fact that Naruto’s the mangy old fox, from the looks of things—Sasuke only gives him a baleful look and begins dusting himself off. He hears what sounds like his usual _hn_ interspersed with an imaginative _that idiot_ and something suspiciously like _wait until Sakura gets his hands on him, then he’ll know_ but before long he’s done and looking no worse for wear.

 _Stupid Sasuke and his stupid genes_ , Naruto thinks, and rolls his eyes. It’s likely why he misses the way Sasuke catches sight of something and grows very, very still.

“Kurama,” Sasuke says, because he _still_ hasn’t figured out Naruto’s in the old fox’s body and _can’t find a way to change himself back yet_ , “there appears to be a little…”

Naruto squints for a few embarrassing moments before he realizes Sasuke’s _wriggling_ his finger at something. Transferring his squint over to his enormous furry body, he looks and sees… nothing.

 _Maybe Sasuke’s eyes have given out or something_ , Naruto can’t help thinking with a mental snicker.

And then he sees something weird peeking out from his leg.

Something must show in his expression because Sasuke wrinkles his nose as Naruto shifts, wriggles his finger a little more insistently and mutters, “No, not there—just a little to your left—not _your_ left, _my_ left—”

“Got it,” Naruto replies, then flicks the body away.

A moment of silence, a little more depth to Sasuke’s furrow and then—

“That,” he says very carefully, “looks a lot like my dead ancestor.”

It’s only then that Naruto realizes he _just flicked a body off his paw_ and that said body, now nothing more than a burst of blood beneath a black cloak and a shattered white mask, is most irrevocably dead. There isn’t much left to salvage but, when he flicks out a claw and gently—or as gently as a human stuffed into a large fox’s body can be, anyway—nudges bits of ceramic away, the face underneath seems more or less intact.

Naruto’s killed too many times in his life feel too much, but at the same time… it’s a body he _squashed with one hand_. The least he can do is see if it really _is_ Uchiha Madara buried beneath that mask, given that there’s really no other dead ancestor that evokes such a response from Sasuke, and then think later. Possibly after he’d freaked out over the now-dead bastard being _alive again_ , even if it _had_ been for a rather short amount of time.

Sadly, he doesn’t even clear more than three pieces when Sasuke sucks in air, eyes narrowing at what’s been laid bare. Naruto can sympathise, though.

After all, the last time he’d seen Uchiha Obito was when he’d crumbled to ash in another dimension.

But if Obito’s dead body is here, then…

“Naruto,” Sasuke says in a perfectly mild voice, “you have some _motherfucking explaining to do_.”

 _Well, shit_ , Naruto thinks, but that’s the last thing he knows before he sees a single red eye and drowns in its unfathomable gaze.

(at least being Kurama was fun, in the loosest sense of the word, while it lasted)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...and here's where the terms and conditions apply, because we're no longer in canon compliant territory anymore! I'm not entirely sure if I should tag this as 'not canon compliant', all things considered, but I'll come to a decision in due time (so a century's a good estimate). Also, would you believe me if I said I didn't connect Obito's death to the Wicked Witch of the East? Because I absolutely didn't catch that until I watched a game show this afternoon and it referenced the poor sucker (the latter one, not the former one).
> 
> Feel free to speculate in the comments if you'd like to take a stab at what's going to happen next; I'd love to see how predictable the plot is or how you're liking things so far. Alternately, you can also sit tight and wait for Sasuke's POV, that's fine too. But if you'd rather have something concrete to work with, I do post updates and progress reports [here](https://chiarosekuro.wordpress.com/).


	2. Q. Whatever Shall We Do? (A. There's nothing to be done)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > Namikaze begins saying, “Nine-Tails,” and it— _he_ —interjects with a half-apologetic, “Please, call me Kurama.
>> 
>> “I’m a reformed demon now,” Naruto-as-Nine-Tails earnestly adds—and if it wasn’t for the ANBU paying _very_ close attention to his movements, Sasuke would facepalm. Hell, with the way everyone does some variation of a double-take or a confused twitch, the urge only grows _stronger_.
>> 
>> And then the moron, like the _absolute moron_ that he is, disappears in a cloud of smoke and _returns to his original form_.
>> 
>> If this isn’t the moment to conveniently smack his whole head off so he doesn’t have to _suffer the moron’s stupidity_ , Sasuke doesn’t know _when_ is.
> 
>   
>  Sasuke threatens everyone's wellbeing, Kurama is pocket-sized (if your pockets come as large as a human torso) and Minato is actually an old grandma in disguise. Also, aggressive italicizing is a thing. Sasuke's not sorry at all. 

* * *

 

 _Well,_ Sasuke’s first thought is, when he reforms in Naruto’s mindscape, _this is new_.

He’d been expecting a sewer—or, at the very least, something water-based like the place they’d been brought to by the Sage—so the twilit forest clearing is… surprisingly nice. In fact, the more Sasuke looks around, the more he suspects Naruto’s mindscape is markedly more well-adjusted than his own. The only consolation he has is that it probably wasn’t the _most_ well-adjusted mindscape out there, but even _then_ he hadn’t been in that many brains to begin.

After all, the Yamanakas are the ones who break into people’s minds for a living and the closest the Uchiha come to mind-rape of any sort is—was? _—_ Itachi’s Tsukiyomi. Amaterasu was just fine and dandy by Sasuke’s standards, given that unquenchable flames went a great deal further in eliminating his enemies and sating his lust for vengeance than three seconds—or three days, depending on how one saw things—of relative intimacy in an inverted world did, so. Direct psychological warfare? Not his domain.

Still, there’s something to be said for how… well, _soothing_ it is. Grass brushes against his toes as he walks towards the fire, but the peace disappears as the two figures huddled around it come into view.

Or, more specifically, the one smiling just a little too widely and sheepishly at him.

“Uzumaki Naruto,” Sasuke hisses, stalking over to loom in front of Naruto before the moron can so much as squeak, “would you care to explain why Kurama found _Uchiha Obito_ plastered to his paw as a _squashed corpse_?”

The moron gives a funny little twitch at the Nine-Tails’ name but, before Sasuke can think about it too much, Naruto raises his hands and says, “Hey, _you_ were the one who couldn’t open the damn scroll!”

“And _you_ activated it, even after I told you it most _probably_ contained _a forbidden technique_ ,” Sasuke replies, fisting a hand in Naruto’s shirt and shaking him with every stressed phrase. “Do you even have a _brain_? Has it died from _overexposure_ to _too much ramen_ , maybe?”

“You take that back, bastard; ramen is the best and you know it!” Slapping at his clenched fist, Naruto snarls in Sasuke’s face and shouts, “So I did something stupid and we’re not in Konoha anymore! It’s not _that_ big a deal, is it?”

Something must be shifting on Sasuke’s face, because Naruto pauses for a moment to eye him before he adds, “I mean, it’s not like it’s permanent or anything.”

Seconds later, the moron’s eyes stop roving over him and he mutters, “ _Fuck_ me.”

“No thanks,” Sasuke absentmindedly replies, but there’s no heart or soul to it.

In fact, Sasuke’s not even sure whether his heart and soul are still _intact_ after the moron’s words.

Because the thing is this: Sasuke didn’t really get the opportunity to think much, after that scroll had spat him out into this sideways world. There had been the recovery from whatever the scroll had done—which he has ideas about, though none of them seem particularly reassuring right now—and then there’d been Obito’s dead body wedged between the Nine-Tails’ paw and the ground. Only now, with the silence dragging out around them, does Sasuke take the time to think about how permanent all this really is.

But first things first…

“Where is the scroll.”

On someone else, that might sound like a question, but Naruto reacts to it like the statement it is and huffs, “Don’t order me around, bastard, I’m meant to be your Hokage!”

Tellingly, it’s not an answer to his statement-question, so Sasuke eyes Naruto with as much respect as the protest deserves—which is to say, absolutely none. Oh, the moron gives him a fierce scowl back and _tries_ to hold his ground, but…

“Okay, I _don’t_ know where it is; happy?” Sasuke gives Naruto’s response the same dead-eyed look his protest inspired earlier, but the moron only throws his hands into the air and shouts, “God, Sasuke, does _anything_ I do ever satisfy you?”

‘No,” Sasuke replies, letting go of Naruto’s shirt so he can fold his arms and stare over the moron’s head. If this had been any other moment in time, he might even spare a smirk for Naruto’s pouty glare, but there’s little to laugh about now.

Obviously, Sasuke doesn’t have the scroll. The Nine-Tails, lacking opposable thumbs and anything that could conceivably hold a scroll, likely doesn’t have it either. So if it’s not with Naruto and he hadn’t noticed it in all the kerfuffle, where is it now?

And more importantly, how are they meant to reverse-engineer a jutsu when they don’t even know what it _did?_

Had Sasuke been prone to hysterical behaviour, he might’ve been screaming into his hands or felling the trees around him with Amaterasu. Had he possessed the emotional range of a typical shinobi, he might’ve froze up or carefully pretended the problem simply did not exist. Being neither, though, Sasuke only scowls as Naruto reaches the same conclusions, curls in on himself and begins gibbering underneath his breath.

So with nothing better to do, Sasuke turns to the second figure huddled around the campfire.  
  


* * *

  
“What’re you staring at, huh?!”

Ordinarily, Sasuke would flinch involuntarily if the Nine-Tails spoke so close to his ear. The last time he had the _pleasure_ —he only uses this word only because there’s no other that’ll work—of conversing with the demon fox, he’d been pretty surprised he didn’t become fox chow. Then again, he’d been trying to enslave it for his perfect world, and such conversations didn’t tend to go very civilly.

…Anyhow, the Nine-Tails is one of the most—if not _the_ most—powerful concentrations of chakra in the Elemental Countries and has a voice to match. It’s several decibels lower than the average human’s, has a truly impressive range and could cow entire nations of angry people with pointy weapons.

But now? If Sasuke was as stupid as Naruto, he might even call the Nine-Tails _cute_.

Being in possession of a little more self-preservation than the moron, Sasuke only holds the Nine-Tails by the scruff of its neck and eyes it with a light frown. With its fur bristling six ways to Sunday and all nine tails thrashing in their short, fluffy glory, it’s less the scourge of the Elemental Countries than it is a very unusual house pet, given that it’s barely any bigger than his torso. Despite himself, his mouth twitches a little, and the Nine-Tails pounces on it with a feral snarl.

Or, if he’s trying to be accurate, a strange little squeak. Still, it’s enough to pull Naruto from his mindless gibbering and get him to focus on the furball dangling from Sasuke’s outstretched arm.

“Oi, brat!” the Nine-Tails yells, snapping ineffectively at Sasuke’s hand and irregularly kicking the air with his stubby little legs. “Stop eyeballing me and _do something_ about your goddamn Uchiha!”

“Excuse me?” Sasuke asks, icy politeness freezing his words solid, but Naruto’s already rolling on the ground and cackling at the Nine-Tails’ impotent rage.

 _It must be nice,_ Sasuke can’t help himself from thinking, _to be so simple-minded and easily amused._

As though confirming Sasuke’s unimpressed thoughts, Naruto wipes a stream of tears from his eyes and gasps, “Y-You can’t really call me brat when you look like _that_ , you mangy old fox!”

“How dare you!” the Nine-Tails roars—or, rather, squeaks with a cracked voice—and redoubles its efforts to dislodge Sasuke’s fingers and scrabble over to Naruto.

As amusing as it was to see the Nine-Tails so irritable and impotent, though…

“Why did the scroll do this to you,” Sasuke says flatly, shaking the Nine-Tails by its ruff to get its attention. It yelps in offense but, given that his current capacity to ask questions is about as non-existent as his fucks to give, it quickly subsides with a grumble and shows some indication of thought.

There’s no question that the scroll is responsible for this, much like it’s responsible for dumping them god knows where and painting their hands with Obito’s blood—if, indeed, it _is_ Obito’s and not some imposter’s who just so happens look like him in death. Sasuke still doesn’t know if this is the past, some sideways universe or a really elaborate genjutsu, but he’s willing to bet that the Nine-Tails, of all of them, would have the best idea. He’s also willing to bet it’s not a genjutsu, given his possession of the Mangekyō and his absolute confidence in it, but one can never be too certain.

So Sasuke’s not too disappointed when the Nine-Tails replies with a petulant, “Hell if I know; one moment I was feeding that brat chakra—and the next thing I know, I’m like _this_.”

Still, that’s not to say Sasuke _isn’t_ disappointed—as much as he expected this, it still falls like a blow to his once-precise life. He should be home now, pressing a dry kiss to Sakura’s cheek and checking in on Sarada, but he’s camping around a mental campfire with too much orange fur between his fingers instead. None of them have the scroll, none of them seem to know what the scroll _did_ , and he’d rather eat his eyeballs than trust these two to come up with a plan.

To anyone else, the task would seem overwhelming in its sheer volume and vagueness. To Sasuke, the boy who grew up with all but two madmen in his clan dead, it’s… not as easy as plotting Itachi’s, Konoha’s or the Elemental Countries’ downfall, but it could be worse.

With that comforting thought in mind, Sasuke shakes the Nine-Tails by its ruff again and dredges up enough inflection to ask, “Does anything outside of the moron’s mind trigger your memories?”

“Bastard, stop calling me moron!” Naruto yells, but Sasuke’s focus is on the Nine-Tails as it stiffens then makes a deliberate effort to relax.

 _I’ll take that as a ‘yes’,_ Sasuke grimly thinks, and follows up his query with a curt, “What is it.”

Naruto, bless his possibly non-existent brain, finally seems to clue in on the situation, because he doesn’t carry on like he normally does when Sasuke continues to ignore him. He can’t really say the same for the Nine-Tails, given how he’s huffing and puffing enough to blow something substantial down, but the demon has brains; it’ll come around. If not, he can always burn half its fur off or fry its nerves from the inside, depending on how he feels.

As though sensing Sasuke’s increasingly violent but satisfying thoughts, the Nine-Tails grumbles to itself and mutters, “I’m not entirely _sure_ , but there’s only a handful of times a stupid Uchiha’s used a Sharingan on me. Apart from _present company_ —”

Sasuke only arches a brow at the Nine-Tails lofty tone. He’s pretty sure he did put-upon a lot better when he was _seven_.

“—the most recent incident was at the brat’s birth.” Jerking its head in Naruto’s direction and ignoring the moron with the same resigned ease Sasuke does, the Nine-Tails turns back to him and adds, “Apart from the whole ‘death via squashing’ incident, it’s about the same.”

He doesn’t need to hear the Nine-Tails bitching to know that very little exists of its memories whilst being brainwashed, given that Sasuke’s used it enough—and had it _used_ on him enough—to see that particular side-effect for himself. Still, if the fragments of memory line up and there’s no other lead around to follow…

It’s not foolproof, but at least it’s worth a try.

“Then let’s assume this is the night Naruto’s born,” Sasuke muses aloud, pinching the Nine-Tails’ ruff when it makes another desperate bid for freedom. “We don’t have the scroll or know what it _did_ to us, but suppose we’re… in the past. For lack of a worse case.”

“Pessimistic bastard,” Naruto grumbles, but Sasuke doesn’t deign to respond. He’d much rather be a ‘pessimistic bastard’ than an eternally hopeless optimist anyway.

So as per his pessimistic and bastardly ways, Sasuke pries what little the Nine-Tails remembers of the night. True to its words, there’s little information present from the time Obito—which doesn’t quite make sense yet, but he’ll deal with it later—stole the demon fox’s free will, but the events before and after are relatively intact. Naruto migrates to the other side of the campfire but his presence isn’t required, so it’s not much of an issue if he doesn’t sit in.

As much as the moron’s ‘talk until it regrets everything’ method worked in the past, Sasuke doesn’t quite trust that as their first and only plan.

There’s little he can do, though, and it makes something dark and resentful grow in Sasuke’s chest. The Nine-Tails vaguely remembers being left to loiter in the forest—Konoha’s outskirts, but where exactly eludes them both—and then being pulled into the middle of Konoha via Kamui. Now that Obito’s clearly unable to sneak into Konoha and attract every ninja’s attention with the rampaging demon fox, where does that leave them?

Will there be search parties dispatched to find the Nine-Tails at their leisure? Does anyone beyond the Uzumaki family and the newly-dead ninja who were meant to protect them even _know_ it’s free? And does anyone even _care_ about the demon fox when some of their strongest are either in the Pure Land or are partway there already?

Sasuke has experience with planning blindly, but this? He thought it would be alright, but evidently this is a _clusterfuck_.

So being the charming and polite person that he is, Sasuke takes great pains to sigh and say, “We’re fucked.”

And just because the universe doesn’t think he’s been screwed over enough, Sasuke’s only got a second to wallow in irritation—and maybe just a smidgen of self-pity—before he’s forcibly punted from Naruto’s head.  
  


* * *

  
Namikaze Minato is patting his cheeks with a look of concern on his face. If this isn’t the beginning of a very strange nightmare, Sasuke blearily thinks, then the guilty but very satisfied look on Kakashi’s radically younger face is just… no. Sasuke’s mind is broken, but not _this_ broken.

As though to prove him right, Namikaze goes from staring intently at Sasuke’s face to glaring—as much as it _could_ be glaring when there’s a large and uncomfortably Naruto-like smile on his face—at Kakashi. Without stopping his patting for reasons Sasuke can’t fathom _at all_ , the Fourth Hokage says, “I’m sure that barrier was still in place the last time I checked, Kakashi.”

“Maa, Minato-sensei,” Kakashi replies—and isn’t it weird to see his lazy, perverted teacher calling Naruto’s dad _his_ teacher, and with such a flat tone of voice too? “It is, but I felt a tug and landed here.”

“Hmm.”

For a moment, Namikaze’s palm rests almost _gently_ on Sasuke’s cheek, but then his eyes flit over to a small pile of ash in the split second before he continues patting again and… honestly, it’s a pretty obvious tell. Sasuke can’t see Obito’s corpse anywhere and he’d been too busy shaking Naruto and then the Nine-Tails to clean the mess, but it’s not around anymore.

But then that leaves Sasuke with the question: _why_ did Namikaze or Kakashi cremate Obito’s remains? Kakashi—the one of _his_ time, not this sideways place—had never talked much about his own Team 7, but he’d always given the impression he cared about his team and they, in turn, cared about each other. Yet few shinobi outside of the Uchiha would follow their customs and cremate the deceased… unless they, like the Hyuuga, believed Sharingan were best destroyed than preserved. Not knowing whether it was sympathy or necessity keeps Sasuke’s muscles tense and his mind fighting his eyes for dominance.

Sasuke’s still puzzling over it, in fact, when three ANBU flicker into existence around Namikaze—one on either side and one almost pressed into his back. Immediately, the hand on his cheek leaves and what expression remains on Namikaze’s face is wiped blank, and in between the lightning-fast hand signs he catches a few things. _Protected_ , one says, while another reports _contained_ and the third adds _danger present, reinforcements arriving in five_.

Namikaze’s face stays eerily, pleasantly blank and Sasuke doesn’t know if he should avert his eyes or not. Considering that this is the moron’s father and a reported ditz, he’s not sure how he feels about this—or the way all but the Nine-Tails' gaze turn to pin him in place.

“Excuse me,” Namikaze politely says, with absolutely no inflection beneath his words, “but I don’t think we’ve been introduced.”

 _In other words, explain yourself in the next five seconds,_ Sasuke translates in his head. Wonderful, just _wonderful_ —he can feel the Mangekyō on display for anyone to see so _any_ Konoha nin with half a brain would already know his clan, if not his particular position. As though to prove his point, he can already see a cat-masked ANBU palm a handful of senbon and one with a plain mask unstrapping a katana from his back.

Under normal circumstances, Sasuke might sass Namikaze back… but with pointy weapons ready to acquaint themselves with his body and half his thoughts furiously concentrated on Naruto, he only deactivates his Sharingan, raises his hands and replies, “I mean no harm, Hokage-sama.”

Not quite an answer, but not quite a non-answer either.

It’ll have to do, given the circumstances, and Namikaze seems to recognize this enough to say, “That’s very nice of you to say, Uchiha-san.”

By the looks of the third ANBU sidling over to keep an eye on him, though, Sasuke’s inclined to disagree with Namikaze’s assessment. The way the other two ANBU move to protect Namikaze and Kakashi a little better doesn’t help, either, and nor does the attention all four are paying to the Nine-Tails—which he’s beginning to suspect _isn’t_ the demon fox.

Though that becomes abundantly clear when Namikaze begins saying, “Nine-Tails,” and it— _he_ —interjects with a half-apologetic, “Please, call me Kurama.

“I’m a reformed demon now,” Naruto-as-Nine-Tails earnestly adds—and if it wasn’t for the ANBU paying _very_ close attention to his movements, Sasuke would facepalm. Hell, with the way everyone does some variation of a double-take or a confused twitch, the urge only grows _stronger_.

And then the moron, like the _absolute moron_ that he is, disappears in a cloud of smoke and _returns to his original form_.

If this isn’t the moment to conveniently smack his whole head off so he doesn’t have to _suffer the moron’s stupidity_ , Sasuke doesn’t know _when_ is. Naruto seems blissfully unaware of Sasuke’s violently twitching hands or the others’ stares—he can only see Namikaze’s blank curiosity and Kakashi’s shocked confusion, but the ANBU are probably a combination of either—but if he thinks he’ll get away with _this_ sort of stupidity…

As though attuned to Sasuke’s thoughts, Namikaze blinks twice and murmurs, “I… wasn’t aware you could do that, Nin—Kurama.”

“The perks of freedom and sanity,” Naruto breezily replies. “Besides, I’d rather not be sealed again so I thought, well, might as well prove that I can act like a good little human.”

“So _that’s_ why you look like Minato-sensei?” Kakashi asks sceptically.

Naruto gives him a nonplussed look for it and—that’s _it_ , Sasuke’s had _enough_ of this goddamn shit.

“Look, Hokage-sama,” Sasuke begins, doing his level best to keep calm and salvage the situation, “I’m sure you’re aware of how the Nine-Tails—”

“Kurama, please,” Naruto politely interrupts, smile innocent to all but Sasuke’s discerning eyes.

“— _Kurama, then_ ,” Sasuke gives in with ill grace, “was freed. I’m also sure you saw what _used_ to be a body over there.” Waving his hand towards the pile of ashes, he adds, “He had the— _Kurama_ under his control and I freed—”

“Him,” Naruto prompts.

“— _him_ before the suspect shinobi could slip away,” Sasuke practically spits, glaring at Naruto’s bright-eyed expression.

“And you can probably guess what happened after,” Naruto finishes, glancing over to Obito’s remains with a poorly-concealed—or is it a deliberately obvious?—wince.

“But really,” Naruto says brightly, grinning at Sasuke without a care in the world, “your Uchiha was very helpful—Minato, I hope I can call you that. So there’s no hard feelings, right?”

“Apart from being a dangerous, human-hating chakra construct that’s done a magical about-face?” someone mutters.

Sasuke wouldn’t put it _quite_ that way, but it’s the thought that counts.

And then there’s several masked shinobi dropping into view, bodies angled towards Namikaze and painted eyes eerily blank, and Namikaze’s saying, “Thank you for your assistance, Uchiha-san, but I’m afraid we’ll need to question you and… Kurama further. Please don’t struggle too much.”

Before he can so much as blink, Namikaze’s pressing a hand against Sasuke’s shoulder and at least two teams come to flank him—

Then for the second time, there’s a bright flash before the world is doused in pitch black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, this was meant to have a lot of witty dialogue between Minato and Naruto, but Sasuke's pushy and I don't want to be doused in unquenchable black flames for all eternity, so you get him screwing things up instead. Don't tell him he did a worse job than Naruto though; you might join me in the eternal damnation business too.
> 
> Also, did I ever mention updates are meant to be on Thursdays? I know this is a Sunday, but [this](https://chiarosekuro.wordpress.com/2018/03/18/pwh-update/) explains the sudden freak accident, though you should probably read [this](https://chiarosekuro.wordpress.com/2018/03/12/partial-writing-hiatus/) if you were wondering why I didn't just update this three days ago. Maybe now's also a good time to mention this isn't going to be vignette-y anymore because this looks like it's got a semblance of plot and I've forgone sleep in the past three days to figure out how to fix every fixable plot hole Kishimoto left. If you want to provide input on what should be fixed and how it should be fixed, leave a comment here or on my [blog](https://chiarosekuro.wordpress.com/), where I also plan to rant a little about what I've got in mind so far. And for those who get bugged by the use of Japanese suffixes and Japanese terms; the suffixes are only there when I want to stress them and won't be there otherwise, and the terms are more because I can't find a good English substitute.
> 
> The title's from _The Wizard of Oz_ again (no surprises there) and the prevailing image was a pocket-sized Kurama. Like, seriously, who wouldn't want a small angry fox yipping at them? I may or may not stick with Naruto for the entirety of the next chapter, but we'll see how it pans out. There's a 30% chance we'll get a surprise Sasuke POV, but it might jump up if he realizes I've got tentative plans and threatens me with Amaterasu.


	3. Just As Good A Man As Anyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > Now, a part of Naruto’s mind remembers that they’re in a holding cell and fresh out of their respective and _very_ demanding interrogation sessions. Logically, he should be sitting still and making himself as unassuming as possible so that, on the off chance they’re freed, it’ll happen as soon as possible. In-fighting, especially loud unrestrained in-fighting, is a pretty good way to keep himself incarcerated forever. For all intents and purposes, that is a Very Bad Thing that he Does Not Want.
>> 
>> So, naturally, it only takes a handful of seconds for Naruto to scream a battle cry and hurl himself at Sasuke.
>> 
>> . . .
>> 
>> By the time their guard kicks down the door, Naruto’s got his foot half-inserted up Sasuke’s ass and has two slender fingers blocking his nostrils.
> 
> Sasuke's ass is examined, Naruto's ability to sing is called into question, and a monster is remade into a man. Also, which bright spark misplaced the memo about boredom and torture? 

* * *

 

“This,” Sasuke snaps through the bars, “ _is entirely your fault_.”

“Look on the bright side!” Naruto replies with as much cheeriness as he can muster. “We’re still alive, aren’t we?”

“Oh _really_? I never noticed.”

_Any drier_ , Naruto wryly thinks, _and you might turn Konoha into Suna_. He’s sure the bastard’s rolling his eyes under the seals blanketing his upper face but it’s hard to tell when he can’t move anything below his neck.

Before he can develop a crick from twisting too much, though, the guard outside rattles their cells and shouts, “This isn’t a tea party, ladies, now quieten down before I _make_ you!”

Obligingly, Naruto snaps his mouth shut and grins apologetically, but the effect’s somewhat lost—because, well, it’s a little hard to see when he’s lying flat on his back and can’t see more than his ceiling. The prissy bastard, for his part, only scoffs in response, which is entirely understandable when they’re effectively prisoners in chakra-dampening cells. Personally, Naruto doesn’t think their current cells are all that bad—from what he’d seen before his body had been sealed off, there was an actual flushing toilet and even a writing desk squashed beside it—but Sasuke’s always had unnaturally high standards.

It’s probably from the log jammed up his ass. Things just don’t compare when one’s ass has such capacity for things.

Though Naruto can see where the bastard’s coming from, even if he privately agrees with what his dad—and isn’t it surreal that his dad’s _alive_ and _talked to him_?—decided to do. Not everyone gets to see two random shinobi pass themselves off as Kurama and a random Uchiha every day, and in the wake of so many unnecessary deaths… is it really so strange that they’d be locked up?

So being locked up is fine and dandy with him, really. Hell, even being sealed and practically immobile is alright, if not a little uncomfortable when he feels an itch.

It’s just Kurama’s—the _actual_ Kurama’s—total silence that’s getting to Naruto.

See, the mangy old fox’s been part of his mind for so long that feeling the vast emptiness in his mind is just… _wrong_. Kurama isn’t exactly the most pleasant conversationalist, but there’d always been a snide comment or huffy insult since they’d been friends—and even before that, there’d been that sensation of _too much_. What was once a raging forest fire in his head, distracting him from the outside world and forcing his mind inwards, is nothing more than a spluttering pocket-sized candle.

Kurama is many things, but ‘small’ and ‘tame’ were never either of them.

Somehow, Naruto thinks he’ll have a while to get used to associating both concepts with the mangy old fox—and he’s not looking forward to it.

But really, things could be a _lot_ worse. Sasuke might think being alive is a basic human right, but when was the last time a shinobi was even considered _human_? It’s been years since Naruto’s thought of his childhood but it doesn’t stop his first C-rank-turned-A-rank mission from coming to mind, especially that calm glade where he’d met Haku-who-wasn’t-Haku and the unfinished bridge where he’d died. As much as he’d learnt about precious people, he’d also learnt about tools—and Naruto’s not dumb enough to think he’s above that.

Living, even without his mobility, is still a precious gift only possible during peacetime. It’s a wonder that Sasuke forgot when Naruto still bears unhealed scars from the Fourth Shinobi War.

(he loves Hinata—and will likely never _stop_ loving her, as far as he’s concerned—but he’s seen a leaner, colder face superimposed over hers far too many times for his liking)

Morose thoughts have never sat well with Naruto, though, and soon enough his mind drifts towards more palatable topics—if _anything_ about his current position counts as such. How long will they stay like this, waiting out days and nights in prison cells? When they get hauled in by T &I—because it’s not a question so much as it is certainty, at this point—what will they be asked? Will it be someone like Morino Ibiki interrogating them? _Hell,_ if it’s _Morino Ibiki_ —

“What part of ‘quieten down’ did you not _understand_?” the guard snaps, and Naruto’s mouth shuts with an audible _clack_ even as Sasuke heaves a sigh.

He’s probably rolling his eyes too, the bastard.

Is it _really_ that strange Naruto speaks aloud, though? In his defence, sharing his head with a hulking—once-hulking, though he’s _fairly_ certain it’s not permanent—chakra spirit doesn’t leave him much room to internalize his thoughts. Still, it’s not like he can’t keep quiet and play nice.

Naruto’s the Seventh Hokage, survived undead bastards and improbable moon goddesses without dying, and has dealt with a son who’s shaping up to become even more of a prankster than _he_ was as a kid. How hard is it to lie down, stay quiet and _rest_ for once?  
  


* * *

  
“I _never_ want to take guard duty again,” Naruto distantly hears in between one nursery rhyme and the next. “Seriously, what is _wrong_ with him?”

“Maybe it’s got something to do with being sealed for so long,” Sasuke replies—and that’s _definitely_ amusement in his voice, the smug bastard. “It’s not like he has much use for social niceties.”

“Fair enough,” the guard grudgingly replies, and Sasuke grunts before they both subside into silence.

…Which is definitely not what _he’s_ doing, belting out lyrics three keys higher than how they’re meant to be sung, but Naruto’s _bored_. It’s nice that the other two are getting along from shared misery, but his foot is _itching_ and he can’t _scratch_ it. If something isn’t done soon then he’s going to start singing half-remembered snatches of rowdy bar tunes, never mind how wildly inappropriate they are.

Thankfully, Naruto’s reaching the end of Himawari’s favourite song when the guard rattles his bars and shouts, “You have a visitor; now _quieten down_ before there’s nothing _left_ for them to visit!”

It’s hardly a threat when Naruto’s been overexposed to the likes of Sakura and Tsunade—but it’s the thought that counts, he guesses. Suppressing the urge to call the guard cute, if only because Sasuke will likely kick his ass if his food gets laced with spit or other bodily fluids, he obeys in time to hear his cell door being unlocked. The steps crossing his cell are unfamiliar, though, and the face that hovers at the edge of his vision doesn’t really clear things up either.

Naruto’s tempted to peg him as a guard but, when he feels chakra and the capacity for movement flooding back into his body…

“Oh, thank _god_ ,” Naruto sighs, and finally scratches his itch. He hasn’t felt this happy about giving himself a tingly foot since he was a _kid_ , he’s pretty sure.

So, naturally, the moment gets ruined far too early when his mysterious saviour says, “If you’re quite done, please follow me.”

He hadn’t thought a monotone was capable of sarcasm until this moment, but there he goes. _Then again,_ Naruto reflects, sparing a glance for Sasuke as his guard fastens chakra-dampening cuffs onto his wrists and begins ushering him out, _if this guy’s where I_ think _he’s from, there’s probably very little to cheer him up_.

Naruto doesn’t get blindfolded—they probably assume he’s been there enough times for it not to matter, but even then there’s so many twists and turns that he hardly knows which direction he’s facing, let alone how to get out again. Still, he’s got enough senses to realize that his guess was correct and his escort did, in fact, come from the bowels of hell to fetch him.

Or T&I, if he wants to be more accurate. There’s personally little difference between the two for him, though the headaches he’d gotten here before were all paperwork-related ones.

Oddly enough, Naruto doesn’t think his headache—if he ends up only getting something so mild—will be _quite_ the same as the ones before.

If he’s going for optimism, though, then at least Naruto can say Morino’s not heading his interrogation. Sure, his dad’s standing there with a perfectly blank look on his face and he’s _fairly_ certain there’s some sort of chameleon jutsu hiding his mom, his dad’s guards, half of T &I or a combination of the three, but it could be worse. Even if Ino’s dad happens to be there… _whoa, let’s just backtrack there…_

That’s Inoichi Yamanaka, the head of the Yamanaka clan. Which happens to be proficient in all of Ino’s family techniques because he _taught_ them to her.

Several of which involve mind-reading.

_Well, shit_.

By the time Naruto reaches that conclusion and realizes that he doesn’t really want to be called out as a time-travelling liar, thank you very much, there’s a heavy hand on his shoulder and a quiet, “This won’t hurt if you don’t struggle too much.”

Which is, well. About as reassuring as it gets when he’s _about to get his mind read_ —but no big deal, right? Ino’s dad can just _flip_ through his memories like it’s a particularly riveting book and he’ll just _sit here and relax_. Yep, solid plan, 10/10.

So can he really be blamed for panicking when Ino’s dad puts his hand on his forehead and closes his eyes? Probably not.

But it doesn’t stop his vision from wavering and blacking out, all the same.  
  


* * *

  
When Naruto comes back to himself, gasping like he’s gone a few too many taijutsu-only rounds against Lee, the first thing he sees are ocean-blue eyes. It’s obvious they’re his dad’s, even if he can’t quite see the bright shock of yellow in his periphery, but what’s more obvious still is how they’re three shades paler than they should be, frosted over as they are.

This close, there’s no mistaking the emotion in his eyes. After all, Naruto’s had years of recognising the exact expression everyone, civilians and shinobi alike, gave him before he’d met the old man and had his first taste of ramen.

But oh, does it _hurt_.

Something must show on Naruto’s face because his dad’s expression falters a little, but it’s back in full force when he—presumably, because somehow he’s kneeling on the ground and not too far off from flopping down and calling it a day—rocks back on his heels. It’s easier to see his pinched lips and the tightness around his eyes with a little more distance, easier still to watch his hands curl to fists atop his knees, but what can he say? _I’m sorry for whatever you found after Ino’s dad forced himself into my brain?_

…Hell, is Ino even _born_ yet? And where’s Ino’s dad, anyway?

It’s at this moment that Naruto finally picks up on low and steady murmuring somewhere off to his right. Even though his dad catches on a split second after he does, he doesn’t shift fast enough to stop Naruto from seeing where it’s coming from. There isn’t much he can see beyond a cluster of people crouched around something, but then someone shifts and— _oh, there he is._

Inoichi is in one piece and looks relatively alive, so what’s with the sudden hate?

_Look a little closer,_ something that sounds halfway between his own and Kurama’s voice whispers, and Naruto obligingly does just that. For a few moments, nothing clears up—but then he blinks, someone shuffles over to one side, and he finally catches the unnatural sallowness to his cheeks. By the time he’s catalogued the twitching eyelids, convulsing hands and near-inaudible moaning, his dad’s _really_ giving him the stink-eye.

But before his dad can open his mouth and order his execution—or something to that effect, given how everyone not fussing over Ino’s dad looks just about ready to murder him—Naruto blurts out, “I didn’t mean to hurt him, I swear!”

Instantly, every eye is upon him with hawk-like intensity.

It’s… definitely not one of his finest moments, Naruto’s going to admit. Sure, he’s a _little_ muddled after being bored out of his mind and deprived of his movement for far too long, but denying plausibility? _He_ knows it’s true and a handful of seasoned T &I guys can probably _guess_ at it from his body language and whatever else they use, but the rest of these guys look just like Chouji when he’s offered a buffet.

Maybe Sasuke was onto something every time Naruto got called a loudmouth. Chewing on his foot— _figuratively_ , not _literally_ —is starting to leave a bad taste in his mouth, he’s finding.

Still, at least his dad manages to keep a vaguely civil tone when he hums in response. Is it meant to sound condemning? Is it tentative agreement that can’t be voiced when everyone else probably wants to burn him alive? It’s hard to tell when Naruto hasn’t seen his dad’s face shift from its politely scrutinising look, but—he’s an optimist. It’s no biggie, right?

And then his dad says, “I’ve never seen my top interrogator being thrown from someone’s mind like that,” in the sort of voice one might use to comment on the weather, and all Naruto can think is _well, shit_.

Because he wasn’t cognizant, Naruto doesn’t actually know what he did. Oh, he can probably _guess_ at what happened, given that Kurama’s still in his head for all his smallness and the fleabag hate being subjected to mind techniques as much as anyone can. For all that Naruto’s horrendous at dispelling genjutsu on his own, the mangy old fox’s had too much experience tossing off another’s influence after what Madara—or Obito, in this universe—did to him… and for all that Ino’s dad is alright at what he does, he’s not a crazy Uchiha who lives and breathes genjutsu.

So really, is it surprising that his mind did something to Ino’s dad? Definitely not.

Does that mean he can explain whatever he did to Ino’s dad? _Definitely not._

“Uh,” Naruto tries anyway, cringing a little at the way his dad slowly arches a brow in response. “I, um… didn’t do it on purpose?”

“You already _said_ that, you monster!” someone hisses from the throng, while another waves his hand at Naruto and protests, “Hokage-sama! Forgive my impudence, but _this_ is clearly a danger to us!”

Naruto should be used to it by now—after all, how many times did he hear it as a child, hurled by shopkeepers as they chased him away from their stalls? How often did people stop to glare as he hurried past them on the streets, not bothering to lower their voices or hide their mouths behind their hands? _Monster,_ they used to whisper, aware of the Third’s edict but far too eager to hurt the beast sealed in a small child’s body.

Naruto should be used to it, but… he’s not.

It’s the only explanation he can give for baring his teeth and hissing back, “Wouldn’t you, if people said you were the scum of the earth for your entire _life?_ ”

There’s something strange in his dad’s expression when Naruto curls in on himself, glaring as some flinch and others falter before lowering their gaze. There’s only bland politeness on his face by the time Naruto looks back, so he’s understandably bewildered when a hand tentatively grips his shoulder.

He is, after all, a monster snapping his teeth at his leash.

But from the way his dad says, “I think that’s enough—you can go back, now,” Naruto’s beginning to question where he stands with Konoha as a whole.

And when someone breaks from the crowd, wavers for a moment and then extends a hand to him… well. It’s not an apology, it’s hardly anything approaching reconciliation, but it’s basic courtesy. It’s something no shinobi would ever show an enemy and it’s not perfect, but it’s still _something_.

Taking the hand with careful slowness, Naruto rises to his feet and is escorted from the interrogation room. Everyone goes back to fussing over Ino’s dad but, for just a moment, every eye in the room follows him out with something that’s not quite judgement but not quite pity, either.  
  


* * *

  
They don’t take him back to his original cell or reapply his suppression seals—something that Naruto’s undoubtedly grateful for, given that he _really_ doesn’t want to sing bawdy bar tunes anytime soon—but the stones in his new cell still prevent him from using his chakra and there’s no sign of Sasuke. It’s roomy though, a little too much for one but just enough for two, and it’s that in conjunction with the squashy cots pressed to opposite walls that stops Naruto from saying anything unnecessary. Goodness knows the bastard would chew him out for giving too much away as it is, once he’s back.

So Naruto sits and waits.

And waits.

…Aaaand waits.

It’s really no surprise, then, that the guard posted at his room groans aloud and slams the door open as soon as Sasuke returns, tears streaming down their face and gobbledegook about _how can someone crack their voice so_ much _, why didn’t his mother drown him at birth_ spilling out of their mouth. Sasuke, for his part, only rolls his eyes heavenwards—which is just as amazing as it was the first few times because, really, how haven’t they fallen out of the bastard’s head yet?—before striding in, taking a seat on his pallet and glaring at the guard. The door’s shut seconds later, the only sounds left are muted sobbing and breaths out of sync, and now it’s just Naruto and Sasuke in their new cell.

Which should really be the end of it all, except Naruto leans forward and grumbles, “I’m pretty sure Lee’s singing was worse than mine—Himawari never complained. And hey, at _least_ I have a sense of _rhythm_.”

To which Sasuke drolly replies, “If your idea of ‘rhythm’ happens to be as good as your memory, moron, then I’d beg to differ.”

Now, a part of Naruto’s mind remembers that they’re in a holding cell and fresh out of their respective and _very_ demanding interrogation sessions. Logically, he should be sitting still and making himself as unassuming as possible so that, on the off chance they’re freed, it’ll happen as soon as possible. In-fighting, especially loud unrestrained in-fighting, is a pretty good way to keep himself incarcerated forever. For all intents and purposes, that is a Very Bad Thing that he Does Not Want.

So, naturally, it only takes a handful of seconds for Naruto to scream a battle cry and hurl himself at Sasuke.

Logic might be rational, but like _hell_ the smug bastard’s getting away with his insults.

By the time their guard kicks down the door, Naruto’s got his foot half-inserted up Sasuke’s ass and has two slender fingers blocking his nostrils. His ribs hurt a little, which probably means he’ll find a lovely red-black patch there before long, but the bastard’s eye is rapidly swelling and he looks more constipated than usual.

All in all, it’s a pretty solid win for Naruto, so he’s more than happy to extricate himself from Sasuke when the guard yells at them. The bastard, for his part, digs his nails vindictively into his sinuses but limps back to his pallet with nothing more than a patented glare—which is just about as good as victory with someone like him.

More bickering breaks out over the hours, of course—the bastard is nothing if not petty and vengeful, and Naruto is hardly going to take his shit lying down. If it wasn’t for the chakra-dampening walls then he suspects Sasuke might try and enter his mind again but, with the situation as it is, all they do is trade insults and play a figurative game of footsie with their guard.

It’s certainly not the nicest thing to do—and Naruto’s fairly certain they force a few early rotations from his and the bastard’s sheer annoyingness—but, by the time his dad comes in to see them, even _Sasuke’s_ looking a little droopy-eyed and vague. And this is the same guy who lived in a bloodstained compound to prove a point for whatever spiteful reason.

So when his dad says, “I hope your stay wasn’t too unpleasant,” like they’re in a hotel room instead of a prison cell, dying from boredom and possibly suspense? Yeah, Naruto can see why Sasuke’s eyes almost roll out of his head.

Before Naruto can even _think_ about following suit, though, the door swings into the room a little more as his dad steps aside— _steps aside?_ —and adds, “I’m sorry for the wait, but you’re free to go now.”

Which—what? Just like _that?_

“Not exactly,” his dad ruefully adds, watching as Naruto’s cheeks redden rather abruptly. “There’s still a few things we’ll have to check—”

_Which probably means ANBU tails for a while,_ a part of Naruto’s mind notes, while the rest of him continues to drown in embarrassment.

“—but there’s no need to continue keeping you here, so… you’re free to go.”

Sasuke, the unflappable bastard, only raises a brow before smoothly getting to his feet and nodding his thanks.

So it’s up to Naruto to actually _say_ his thanks, follow on the bastard’s heels and… waltz off to freedom. As you do, apparently, after stuffing up your interrogation and yelling at everyone because it wasn’t bad enough to begin with.

And that is how, a little more than twenty-four hours after their unexpected foray into the past, Uzumaki Naruto and Uchiha Sasuke become Kurama and some random Uchiha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...I mean, at least it updated before 2019? In my defense, for those who may not have seen [this](https://chiarosekuro.wordpress.com/2018/04/13/partial-writing-hiatus-2/), personal life issues were being a bitch and much angst-writing was had before I could begin stomaching the thought of crack, even vaguely serious crack like this. Also, I'm pretty sure I've deleted about as many words as I've written for this chapter. Sasuke didn't really take well to being denied an early opportunity to share his POV.
> 
> Instead of leaving this for another week and trying to cull more words, though, I thought I may as well stop procrastinating (on procrastination, no less) and post the bloody thing up. If something gets edited, I'll make a note of it; otherwise, we'll be moving onto the plot-hole-fixing portion of our agenda. Feel free to point out any mistakes if you see anything, though try not to break my fragile heart in the process.
> 
> I don't even know why I bother crediting _The Wizard of Oz_ whenever I mention chapter titles anymore; just know that, unless stated otherwise, Baum allows my brain to atrophy instead of scrambling to figure out something witty. The prevalent image was the guards' misery, Naruto scratching his foot (seriously, not being able to scratch an itch is _torturous_ ) and said foot making contact with Sasuke's ass. Also, there's a 50-50 chance that the next chapter will be your regular Sasuke-dominated update or be a quick aside into our time-travelers' respective interrogations, so... if you have an opinion on what you'd rather see, drop a comment on here or my [blog](https://chiarosekuro.wordpress.com/) (or just let me toss a coin in a few days' time and go from there; it's up to you).

**Author's Note:**

> I meant to title this fic 'Neither Mystery Nor Goodwill', except my brain farted and I switched up the two nouns. Since Cindy kindly pointed out that it doesn't sound as posh as it should, I guess you'll just have to slum it with me.
> 
> Anyhow, you can track things about this fic on my [blog](https://chiarosekuro.wordpress.com/) (because I abandoned my tumblr for greener pastures) under the tag 'neither goodwill nor mystery', or you could check out my other bits and bobs on there if that strikes your fancy instead.


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